Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Time for a new poem!
No man thinks more highly than I do of patriotism- Patrick Henry
Bipolar
locked in
never whole
yin
yang
right
left
vampire squid on the face of humanity
made from our own id
denial from our own parietal lobe
a massive failure
to want it all
no compromise
all or nothing
better dead
my way or the highway
mathematicians gone financial
suckers, rubes, marks
smartest guys in the room
Remember the Alamo
Waco
Oklahoma City
Virgina Tech
Columbine
Ruby Ridge
Leo Strauss
Chicago School of Economic warfare
Realpolitik
Blame the other
it's not me
illegals
wet backs
slope heads
it's never me
which is more powerful
the jacketed hollow point bullet
the synthetic Collaterized Debt Obligation
A line in the sand
don't tread on me
guy fawkes
jack ruby
conspiracies
bilderburgs
tin foil hat popularism of X files
what do those chemtrails in the sky mean
it is the invisible waves that will zombify us
Schizophrenia
the moving mouth behind the hand
the Don gives a wave to his peloton of lieutenants
turf wars
give them bread and circuses
Samuel Johnson- Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel
Bipolar
locked in
never whole
yin
yang
right
left
vampire squid on the face of humanity
made from our own id
denial from our own parietal lobe
a massive failure
to want it all
no compromise
all or nothing
better dead
my way or the highway
mathematicians gone financial
suckers, rubes, marks
smartest guys in the room
Remember the Alamo
Waco
Oklahoma City
Virgina Tech
Columbine
Ruby Ridge
Leo Strauss
Chicago School of Economic warfare
Realpolitik
Blame the other
it's not me
illegals
wet backs
slope heads
it's never me
which is more powerful
the jacketed hollow point bullet
the synthetic Collaterized Debt Obligation
A line in the sand
don't tread on me
guy fawkes
jack ruby
conspiracies
bilderburgs
tin foil hat popularism of X files
what do those chemtrails in the sky mean
it is the invisible waves that will zombify us
Schizophrenia
the moving mouth behind the hand
the Don gives a wave to his peloton of lieutenants
turf wars
give them bread and circuses
Samuel Johnson- Patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Inheritors
The suffering will not be reported tonight
he who has the gold- rules
to keep power unto themselves
This garbage dump
we call society
in mindful chaos
Upon the silvered screen
the multitudes- unwashed and ravenous
storm the gated community of Zardoz
Those who will bring back the primordial
invoking the ancient, ritualistic blood culture
to overwhelm “civilization”
Franz wrote about “The Wretched...”
of those whose lives are unremembered
in the written narrow alleyways we call history books
Ticktock tick tock
on some cosmological scale
our hubris is but a mote unnoticed
Death by our own hands
shiny stainless steel and composite fiber weapons
with crudely written messages- “Hi, mom” & “Lover boyz”
In glory, ah glory, ah to leave no progeny
leaving all on the battle field
in honor, to honor who on the death field?
Only human which we are and nothing more
but the chance of protein imperfectly copying some other life form
random, mutation and finally reaching a premature ending
Sinking into the soil
covered by clover and poppy
the sin of human living finally expunged
Nothing will remain
except the insects that preceded us
their hive mind far superior to the hubris addicted bipedal hairless simians
Our monuments of steel and titanium will rust
but our mental contraptions
will last
Death by disease
the invisible killers that will be in partnership with the arachnids
but will outlast the chitin warriors because they are the building blocks for life redux
he who has the gold- rules
to keep power unto themselves
This garbage dump
we call society
in mindful chaos
Upon the silvered screen
the multitudes- unwashed and ravenous
storm the gated community of Zardoz
Those who will bring back the primordial
invoking the ancient, ritualistic blood culture
to overwhelm “civilization”
Franz wrote about “The Wretched...”
of those whose lives are unremembered
in the written narrow alleyways we call history books
Ticktock tick tock
on some cosmological scale
our hubris is but a mote unnoticed
Death by our own hands
shiny stainless steel and composite fiber weapons
with crudely written messages- “Hi, mom” & “Lover boyz”
In glory, ah glory, ah to leave no progeny
leaving all on the battle field
in honor, to honor who on the death field?
Only human which we are and nothing more
but the chance of protein imperfectly copying some other life form
random, mutation and finally reaching a premature ending
Sinking into the soil
covered by clover and poppy
the sin of human living finally expunged
Nothing will remain
except the insects that preceded us
their hive mind far superior to the hubris addicted bipedal hairless simians
Our monuments of steel and titanium will rust
but our mental contraptions
will last
Death by disease
the invisible killers that will be in partnership with the arachnids
but will outlast the chitin warriors because they are the building blocks for life redux
Monday, April 27, 2009
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